


skin

by sweggscellent



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweggscellent/pseuds/sweggscellent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For anyone else, it would probably be a weird question. Guys don’t shave their legs. Guys don’t really shave anything besides their faces, do they? And maybe Jean is a bit confused by the inquiry, but it’s Marco, and they’ve been boyfriends for a year and best friends for forever, so “weird” doesn’t really apply to them anymore.</p><p>Marco bypasses the why and goes straight for, “Would you ever consider it? Like… maybe tonight?” </p><p>Or, the one where Jean shaves his legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	skin

**Author's Note:**

> hhell yeahhh

It’s a Friday evening while Jean’s parents are out of town when the question pops up. He and Marco are lying on their stomachs on Jean’s bed, eating pizza and watching Parks and Recreation when Marco hits A on the Xbox controller, pausing Netflix, and tilts his chin in his hand to look at Jean.

“Have you ever thought about shaving your legs?” Marco asks, slow and honest. Jean’s eyes flick down to Marco’s lips, thinly slicked with pizza grease (which should be gross, but nothing about Marco is gross), and he doesn’t really process the question or its meaning before he’s replying in the negative.

“How come?” Jean asks, wiping his fingers on a napkin as he leans forward, over the edge of the bed, to place his paper plate on the floor.

For anyone else, it would probably be a weird question. Guys don’t shave their legs. Guys don’t really shave anything besides their faces, do they? And maybe Jean _is_ a bit confused by the inquiry, but it’s Marco, and they’ve been boyfriends for a year and best friends for forever, so “weird” doesn’t really apply to them anymore.

Marco bypasses the _why_ and goes straight for, “Would you ever consider it? Like… maybe tonight?”

And _that’s_ what strikes Jean as bizarre, simply because they’ve been fucking for months now and Marco rarely makes requests of him, and of all things… for Jean to shave his legs? Jean isn’t judging though, but his pensive silence must come off less thoughtful and more reluctant, because Marco is quick to defend the idea.

“I mean, y’know, it’s just temporary. And it’ll grow back pretty fast, right? And I mean—“

Jean cuts Marco off with a kiss to his pizza-grease lips and a cheeky grin.

“Dude, don’t sweat,” he says and moves to get up. “I’ll do it. Just come with me, yeah?”

Marco nods enthusiastically, setting his own plate down and trailing after Jean as he makes his way into the bathroom.

He turns on the bathtub faucet and shucks his jeans, grabbing the razor he uses for his face and the half-empty can of Axe on the counter before sitting on the edge of the tub. Marco rolls up the ends of his own pants and sits next to Jean, shoulder warm and encouraging against his boyfriend’s.

“It’s just like shaving your face, right?” Jean asks, glancing at Marco. “Like, y’know, just. Shave?” He sounds a bit nervous, but that’s understandable and Marco flashes Jean a soft grin before nuzzling Jean’s jaw.

“Yeah. Just… go slow. You don’t wanna cut yourself.”

“Alright, yeah,” Jean nods, and as he leans down to spread the cream up his right leg, he pauses. “Should I do the whole leg, or… just up to the knee…?”

He sounds so terribly lost. Marco smiles a bit wider to himself. He’s not got much experience outside of Jean, but Jean’s probably the best he could ask for.

“May as well go all the way…”

Jean nods and gets to work.

Marco sits with Jean for the full 45 minutes it takes him to shave the thick blond hair from both legs, reminding him occasionally to go a bit more slowly, and once Jean has rinsed the remnants of the shaving cream from his now-smooth legs, Marco grabs a towel and dries the skin himself.

“How’s it feel?” Marco asks, eyes flickering up to Jean’s face from where he’s knelt on the floor to dry Jean’s legs for him. Jean makes a face and rubs his legs together, eyebrows drawing together, before his lips quirk a bit.

“Weird,” he confesses, “but nice.”

Jean continues rubbing his legs together, feeling the way his skin glides against itself and humming at the sensation until Marco cups his calves in two large hands and slides them up the length of the backs of Jean’s legs until he bumps into the cool porcelain of the bathtub.

“Does feel pretty nice,” Marco says after a breath, voice low, and Jean bites his lip, a shiver at Marco’s tone skating down his spine.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Marco hums, turning his head to kiss the inside of Jean’s left knee, soft lips brushing the smooth skin delicately. His hands stroke up and down the sides of Jean’s legs as he kisses his way downwards, open-mouthed and slow, moaning quietly when Jean’s hands come down to card sweetly through his hair.

Jean can feel himself growing hard as Marco’s lips caress his skin, arousal pooling warm in his gut, and he tugs at Marco’s hair a bit. Brown eyes flutter open and Marco meets his boyfriend’s gaze, pupils dilated, and Jean’s breath hitches.

“Let’s go back to the bedroom,” Jean whispers, and Marco nods, standing and grasping Jean’s hand in his to lead them back to the room.

They both lose their shirts along the way, leaving Marco in his pants and Jean in his boxer-briefs, and Jean obediently lies down, exhaling long and slow as Marco clambers over him.

They kiss, Marco’s lips warm and pliant against Jean’s own, and Jean whines softly when Marco’s teeth capture his lower lip and pull gently. Their mouths meet again, open and in rapid succession until Marco is slowing down and trailing hotter, wetter kisses down Jean’s neck. His tongue laves against the place where he can feel Jean’s thunderous pulse most clearly and Jean sighs, fingers sliding again into Marco’s hair.

Marco continues his descent down, pressing kisses into Jean’s sternum, over his ribs, across the flat lines of his stomach, to the ridges of his hips where he hooks his fingers teasingly into the band of Jean’s underwear, moving it a fraction of an inch lower before he smirks up at his boyfriend, relishing in the needy moan that pushes past Jean’s lips. He continues further down, lips grazing Jean’s clothed cock faintly before he sinks his teeth into the soft inside of Jean’s thigh. Jean arches, his hand tightening in his boyfriend’s hair as Marco’s name leaves his lips in a breathy gasp.

“You like that?” Marco murmurs against the smoothness of Jean’s thigh, and Jean answers wordlessly with a whine.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard you can’t breathe,” Marco says, tone dropping low in the way he knows Jean loves as he slides his palms across Jean’s open legs, towards the apex of his thighs. “Look how hard you are, baby. All for me.”

These words always feel a little foreign in Marco’s mouth, like a separate language he uses only in these moments, but it’s something Jean can never seem to get enough of. Marco notes the way his boyfriend’s flush spreads like water from his cheeks down his heaving chest, and it’s worth it to say these things and use this tone, because if Jean loves it, Marco loves providing it for him.

Marco palms firmly over Jean’s erection, biting his lip when Jean moans and bucks into his hand gently, before shoving his jeans down to his thighs and flattening his body against Jean’s own.

Pressing his lips to Jean’s jaw, Marco nips sharply and murmurs, “tell me what you want.”

Jean adjusts so his thighs are tight against Marco’s waist and ruts against him like the hormonal teenager he knows he is, one hand fisting itself again in Marco’s hair as the other claws into his bicep.

Marco stays torturously still, nipping again at Jean’s flesh. He uses one arm to balance himself as the other comes down to savor Jean’s smooth skin, fingers skating up and down his thigh as he repeats himself.

“C’mon, babe. Tell me how bad you want my cock,” he whispers, and Jean whimpers, thrusting his hips again.

“Marco, fuck,” Jean says, words tumbling from his mouth without a filter, rough and gritted out. “Just fuckin’— _move,_ alright, f— _oh_ ,” Jean’s demands are cut short when Marco rolls his hips into him, face buried in Jean’s neck, breathing him in.

They stay latched that way, grinding against each other like two horny eighteen year olds until Marco adjusts and pulls Jean up by the hips before sliding his fingers to lock around his thighs, groaning at the way Jean’s skin feels against his hands. Everywhere their bodies meet is on fire and it drives Marco mad.

He rolls his hips more deliberately, slower, and Marco knows he’s not going to be able to get his dick in Jean, not with the way his thighs feel shaved and smooth against his palms and with the way broken moans that indicate Jean is close are already falling from his lips.

Marco manages to at least shove their underwear down and jerk them together in a few rough pulls before Jean is coming, arching and with Marco’s name in his mouth.

Marco doesn’t come long after, bursting at the seams as Jean continues to twitch beneath him, and he comes with a cry muffled against Jean’s sweaty neck, nails raking across his skin. Goosebumps prick his skin as he comes down, breathing hard against Jean’s skin, and when he’s finally back down, Marco rolls off his boyfriend, pulling him at the hips so Jean is on top instead.

“Good?” Jean breathes, eyes sleepy and bright. He shifts slowly, joints still jellylike, to shove his and Marco’s underwear the rest of the way off before resting his chin against Marco’s chest.

Marco smiles and leans forward, kissing Jean’s forehead as he strokes a hand up his thigh.

“Good,” he whispers and pinches Jean’s ass, laughing at the indignant yelp he receives. He pulls the top sheet over their exhausted bodies and shushes Jean with a kiss, willing him into sleep.


End file.
